Death
by Gambitlover21
Summary: Spoilers for 185! GambitDeath's feelings...or lack thereof.
1. Battle

Once again, spoilers for X-Men # 185, so don't read yet if you don't want to be spoiled.

Ok, but anywho, for all y'all readin' this now, just got 185, and I felt it had soo many directions to go in. This is my take on Gambit/Death's thoughts and feelings on the events that happened during the comic. FYI – not too much plot now, but maybe later. Please review!

Spoilers – Poccy changed Gambit's eyes! That's crossing the line, buddy. As icky as the black skin and long white hair are, I could handle it, but he messed with his eyes. It's on.

Oh yeah, I don't own X-Men (surprised?). And I ain't makin' any money on this either.

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Death stared at the assembled group of X-Men before him, with Apocalypse an unimaginable pillar of strength and will behind him. To Death, these X-Men should mean absolutely nothing. The only purpose they served was to get in the way of his master's plans, and for that, they should be eliminated. However, Death could not completely immerse himself inside an unfeeling shell. Memories, and things he couldn't recognize, gave him flashes of his past…no, the past of who Death used to be. To Remy Lebeau, the man whose body Death inhabited, these X-Men meant quite a lot.

The one covered with an icy, sharp exterior was called Iceman, and the man in the skin tight black suit with silver circles and paneling was named Havok. They brought a vague sense of warmth to the back of Death's mind, but one that was easily pushed away. The two in the back of the group, the blue skinned, red-haired female, and the tall, short haired blonde male brought something that to the memories Death fully understood.

Rage.

There had been no love lost between his old self and those two mutants. The mere sight of them created such a blinding intensity within Death, but that too was pushed away.

But the woman in the front, clad in striking gold and green, with a long coat, and beautiful brown hair, streaked with white in the front…Rogue. She brought senses to him that were hard to shove aside. Soft, but strong, caressing warmth gently touched his mind, traveling down his body, curling around his chest, his heart, playfully stroking his face, his hands, played down his stomach, his hips, lower…Death tried to push it away, but it stayed, touching and feeling. The most he could do was to ignore the strange warmth.

To his shame, watching the X-Men and trying to decipher the…feelings… they brought up within him, he had not heard the conversation between them and his master. Rogue suddenly screamed something at Apocalypse, and fire flew from her hands at Death's master. Without even thinking, he slammed a hand against her face, sending her to the floor. The warmth stopped touching, stopped stroking, and, feeling some sort of relief, Death raised a foot to smash her face in. Rogue whispered, "R-Remy?" At that moment, the warmth chose to return. With a vengeance. It encircled him so tightly, with such a fiery heat, that he could hardly breathe, much less move.

"D-darlin'! Don't you know who I am?" Rogue said from the ground, with a broken, almost helpless voice. Death, still held in the heat's grasp, stared down at her for a moment. It was almost like the heat was stopping him, holding Death back from destroying Rogue. At that moment, Iceman chose to slam into Death, hard, knocking him away from Rogue. Anger rippled in Death's mind, until he heard Rogue tell Iceman not to hurt Gambit…she meant Death? Why would the woman defend him? Pushing his questions aside, Death reveled in his newly gifted strength by reaching out a black-gloved hand and slamming Iceman to the ground, shards of flooring flying into the air. Death needed protection from no one.

Blood coated everything. Thick, clogging, red fluid was on the floor, on the X-Men, and on Death himself. The X-Man called Havok had literally wreaked havoc on the antidote's containers, his energy blast taking out a large portion of tubing. As everyone pulled themselves from the ground, Death saw that the X-Men were no worse for the wear than he was.

"Master, the X-Men…"

"Will be dealt with later. The ship must heal itself. It can do that best while in transit…Now help me hold-" Apocalypse was cut short by another burst from Havok, flinging Death and Apocalypse away from the group.

"R-Remy. Come home with me. Please." Rogue said, causing the warmth to flare up…but with Apocalypse, it was easier to forget it.

"I am not Remy. I am Dea-"

"No! I don't believe that! There must be some part of you that still loves me. No matter what awful things Apocalypse did to your body…He can't have completely crushed out all that love." Even drenched in blood, her confession of… love… overrode Apocalypse's influence.

"Love, Master?" Death asked. He knew the word, he thought, but not the meaning.

"An emotional response with some limited evolutionary benefit. Now enough of this, Death! Use the gas on her!"

"The gas…" It was so easy, commands. Please the Master, help Apocalypse, stop anyone in his way… Orders made it simple to not feel, to finally push away the warmth…spreading his fingers, Death called the gas, and it appeared in a cloud around the brunette's head. She coughed, going to her knees. In a few more moments, she would be dead. Death felt no satisfaction over the knowledge that he would be her killer. Death is death, a state of being…or not being… but not a feeling.

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Sorry to end it there (I know the issue ain't over yet) but school calls. AND I left all my comics upstairs, which I was gonna use for some "memory" reference. Frankly, I'm just too lazy to go upstairs and get them. So, memories and Gambit/Death's conversation with Poccy next chapter, if people like this goofy first chapter.

Side Note - For those of you who've read this before, I added a little at the end! 2nd chapter is on it's way. YAY!


	2. Memory reread Chap 1!

Back again! Ok, so on this one, I did Gambit's memories that made him happy-ish (awww, ain't it sweet?) and had a lot of fun going thru old comics and stuff. Some are "real" events (in comic history) and there are some that I made up, but feel that the "memories" really could have occurred. Some are long, some are short. Also, it may be a bit confusing to know what's going on. Sorry.

To all of my lovely reviewers – Herszel, spooky the spook, Jean1, BlkDiamond, Prexistence and Tammy – you guys rock and thanks for the support. I hope that this chapter makes y'all happy! Oh yeah, and what's a WIP?

Disclaimer – The X-Men are not mine and I make no money from this endeavor.

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Death heard a shout. "NO!" A blue arm shot out, slamming Death out of the way. The blue woman, she must also be taken…that lying, murderous WHORE! Remy heard Rogue say weakly, "Mystique…"

Rogue… ROGUE! The gas! Remy quickly dispersed it, horrified…annoyed that he had not completed his task. Wait. What had Death just thought? Death felt horror? And, love? No, it wasn't Death that felt those feelings. It was Remy.

"What happened, Death? You just let the X-Men escape! That will not be tolerated!" Apocalypse thundered.

GambitDeath thought darkly, "And of course, you wouldn't lift your own finger to stop them yourself."

Death looked taken aback, and more than slightly confused. "I am…not sure. It was like looking through a fog, at another person. But now, I begin to see, I am still Remy Lebeau, still Gambit. Gambit and Death." Death told his master, sounding more like he was thinking out loud than answering a question. "And part of me…still loves…her…still."

"Death does not love," Apocalypse said coldly. "Death is a force of nature, like a desert storm, a flood, and earthquake. We will have to put you back on the transformation machine for readjustment." Placing a huge hand around Death's throat, he began to squeeze.

GambitDeath put a hand on Apocalypse's wrist. "Release me, or I'll be the death of you. I will turn the air inside of your lungs into noxious gas, as you taught me!" GambitDeath snarled.

With a slight widening of his eyes, Apocalypse said, "Very well. But no more talk of love. Or I will surely put you new powers to the test, Horseman." He began to walk away, saying, "Come, too much of the antidote is lost. We will need to alter our strategy." He paused, "But first, return to your chambers and rid those thoughts of love. Collect yourself and I will call you when I need you."

Repressing a flash of irritation, Death could only guess that it came from the Gambit part of him, Death strode to his small room. Standing inside the room, Death glanced at the mirrored wall on his right. Long white hair hung slightly in front of his face, where red eyes glowed dully, set in deep black skin. GambitDeath felt something twinge inside him, something sad, something full of guilt and pain.

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"Remy! Enfant, y' gonna get yo'self kilt, out dere playin' in de swamp. One day, one of dem croc's is gonna t'ink you look mighty savoureux, and den what? You leave me here, w' out no one to take care of," Tante Mattie cried out to Remy's small figure.

"Tante, y' worry 'bout m' too much. "Sides, dose crocs ain't nuthin'," Remy replied, adopting a slight swagger to his walk. At 11 years of age, Remy was a charming and confident boy, who, while practical, liked to talk big. On others, this may have been called bragging. But Remy could actually DO most of the things that he talked about, unlike those other boys.

Hopping over a bench that was normally behind a picnic table in front of Tante's house, Remy somersaulted over the archaic black fence that circled her home, and bounded up the stairs to the porch, giving Tante a look that said, "See, no problem! I can take care of myself."

Chuckling, Tante Mattie said, "Well, I guess that a grand boy like you don't need no lunch." Arching an eyebrow at him, she began to walk inside. "I guess I'll jus' eat it all on m' own."

"Non, non, dat ain't necessary. I can help ya eat. I ain't dat big, yet." Remy darted in, past Tante, towards the kitchen. He was really hungry. Exploring the swamp always made him famished, but it felt so… right to be there. Sometimes, he even took off his shoes to let the swampy mud soak in around his feet. Remy, being incredibly agile, could climb the trees faster than any other boy around, something that he never let his friends forget.

Entering the kitchen, Remy was happy to see his assembled lunch, eagerly sitting down at the table. Suddenly, arms encircled his shoulders, pulling into a warm embrace.

"Je vous aime, Remy," Tante Mattie said gently, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Aww, Tante, gross!" Remy said exasperatedly. However, his red on black eyes sparkled with love. For a long time, Remy had never really had a real family. Now that he had one, he realized just how much he had missed out on. He had went from no love, to love from so many different people. Henri, Papa, Tante, and many other members of the Guild. He had a place, now, and a family.

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Death gasped, clutching his head.

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As the basketball game progressed, Remy could see how frustrated Rogue was becoming. Wolverine and Rogue were playing against Gambit and Jubilee in a game of two on two, and losing rather badly. However, Rogue wasn't the only one to look a tad frustrated.

"Gambit, one of these days you are going to push your luck too far, boy," Logan snarled from his position on the ground, wiping sweat away from his face.

With a satisfied smirk, Gambit replied, "An' you, friend Logan, are goin' to explode if you do not learn to relax, no?" While Rogue and Logan may not have been having the greatest time in the world, getting their respective butts kicked by Gambit and Jubilee, Remy found himself really having fun, for the first time in a long time.

While Jubilee may not have had the best shot in the world, she was agile, and managed to get the ball to Remy just in the nick of time, setting him up for perfect shots. Barely even sweating, Remy sank shot after shot, watching Rogue get more and more angry, sweat glistening on her forehead.

Swish. Nothing but net.

"Yeah!" shouted Jubilee, well, jubilantly, "How does he do it?"

Swish.

"Is it the shorts?" cried Jubilee cheerfully.

Swish.

"Is it the shoes?" she yelled again.

Covering his eyes, knowing it would annoy Rogue all the more, Gambit shot again, realizing that Rogue could easily snatch it out of the air using her powers, despite their rule against them. She angrily grabbed the ball, and chucked it at Gambit, knocking the wind out of him.

'Dat's mon chere," Remy thought mischievously, "Always ready t' get physical. What she don' know yet, is just how physical I can be!"

Jubilee furiously defended her teammate with her fireworks, and taking the given moment, Gambit shot the ball at the hoop… and missed? "Hey, the post moved!" Remy said, surprised. He looked down, where Wolverine stood, claws extended.

"Awww… diddums miss his shot? Real world lesson, Gambit… don't try to reinvent the rules unless you're prepared to have others do the same!" Logan grinned. Most men would have felt at least a small amount of fear, seeing the carnivorous look on Wolverine's face, but not Gambit. Despite a rough start with one another, nights of drinking and playing cards and pool had cured that dislike. Remy felt a common bond with Logan. Each had had things done to them and done things that they weren't proud of in the past, but were both trying to be the best heroes they could be, making up for their past wrongs the only way they knew how.

"No fair, no fair, no fair! It was Rogue who cheated first!" Jubilee said, waving her hands. "She couldn't've caught that bounce without her powers." That was one of the reasons that Gambit was so fond of the small girl. She had a definite sense of justice, and despite all the times they fought and teased one another, Remy and Jubilee got alongrather well.

"Let it go Jubilee. Rogue says she did not cheat. D'accord. But the gloves are off now, hey?" Remy gave an evil smirk.

"Uh-oh," murmured Jubilee, sliding her pink sunglasses down over her eyes.

"Any agreement not to use powers is null and void, no? And my powers can make this game real interestin'." The ball glowed pink with Remy's kinetic powers. This would be… fun.

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"Wha.. what is this.." Death, still clutching his head, went to one knee. "How?"

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His hand traveled over the warm black leather seat, lazily drifting up to the handle bars, where they rested in a familiar position. With practiced ease, he swept his warm trench coat to one side and his right leg over the seat of the bike. For Remy Lebeau, the care and riding of his Harley was one of the most simple pleasures that he allowed himself.

While he worked on the bike, the thoughts of crazy murderers, evil scientists and power hungry dictators were banished from his mind. While he rode his bike, past regrets, guilt, and sorrows could be forgotten. Especially on days like today. Rich auburn, yellow and orange leaves dotted the trees, but even more seemed to be falling, and even more than that coated the ground. The sky was a pure, nearly cloudless blue and the air was cold and crisp. He cranked the engine and was off, engine roaring, down the drive of the school, leaves falling around him, a small smile playing on his lips. It seemed, while Remy was on his bike, the world was not so bad a placeafter all.

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"Oh God. Mon dieu, non," Remy…Death cried out.

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"This doesn't make any sense, Gambit! Colossus killed Riptide when the Marauders massacred the Morlocks!" Psylocke said worriedly, brushing lavender hair from her face. "And why can't my psi-probe pick up anything from him?" As Gambit and Psylocke kneeled, observing the unconscious, naked body of Riptide, the formerly dead Marauder, Gambit's rush from the fight quickly faded. The short battle had been far too easy.

"Look at his skin, chere! Rashes everywhere – like he's flakin' apart!" This was an odd development. The whole place made him rather nervous, being in Sinister's lair and all. Just then, a loud crash exploded from one wall and Rogue flew in.

She yelled, looking wildly around the room, "REMY!...uhm…an' Betsy too, o' course. Ah guess…uhm, y'all took care o' Riptide?" She looked rather abashed, for she always tried to hide her feelings, to put up an uncaring mask between her and the rest of the world. Remy knew her real feelings, however.

"Guessed right, mon amour. Never mind your pretty face 'bout gettin' here a little late, Rogue," Gambit gave her a sly grin that he knew drove her nuts. "Like Elisabeth said…it's the thought dat counts. An' you were worried about me, weren't you?" It was at that moment, his first realization that she **really** cared. Remy wasn't blind to his good looks, and he knew that many women were attracted to him on sight, a tool that he had used to his advantage many times. Sure, there had been moments before, when he caught flashes of her attraction, but he could never be sure if it was his charm or his looks, rather than HIM, that kept her attention. But now he knew…and it felt…amazing…to know that HE was really loved by someone, that someone that he had fallen in love with since he had first joined the X-Men.

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"What've I done?" Remy thought wildly, a small tear making its way down the black skin of Remy's cheek. "Who am I, really?" thought Death, clutching black gloved fists. "An X-Man, or a Horseman?"

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So, kinda confusing, ain't it? Well, I guess that's how Gambit feels, so now you know some of his pain. Just a FYI, Remy or Gambit is (duh) that boy that we all know and love. GambitDeath is a combo of both Death's ruthlessness and Gambit's feelings. So who knows what they'll do. Death is just Death alone, obedient servant to Poccy. And they (in case you didn't notice) interchange a lot. I may have to wait till I get next issue to update, and it also depends on how many ppl review. Love y'all lots, but bye for now. Oh, wait, read spooky the spooks stories, if you like mine. We think on the same wavelength. ;) 


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